


Failure to Enlist

by DragonoftheMidwest



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Casual Sex, Companions Questline, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Lesbian Dragonborn, Literally the dragonborn starts out as a former servant, M/M, Rags to Riches, Ralof is gay too, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Skyrim Civil War, Skyrim Main Quest, Slow Burn, Smut, basically normal Skyrim but gayer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-03-30 03:23:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13941540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonoftheMidwest/pseuds/DragonoftheMidwest
Summary: What do you do when you leave home to join the war effort, but the man behind the cause is not what you expected?Add in suddenly finding yourself as a living legend, and it's enough to drive anybody up the wall.Luckily for Hlin, Ralof's got her back.





	1. Chapter 1

Hlin rolled away from the chopping block just before it was crushed by a falling meteor. Her hands were still bound, but she pushed herself up enough to use her momentum to carry her forward. Ralof grabbed her by one of her arms and helped pull her back up. She followed the Stormcloak into the tower, letting him slam the door shut behind them. 

One of the other soldiers handed Ralof a dagger that he used to cut the bindings around Hlin’s wrists. “Jarl Ulfric, what was that thing?  Could the legends be true?” He asked over Hlin’s shoulder

“Legends don’t burn down villages.” The Jarl frowned at the ceiling as the dragon roared loud enough to make the tower tremble. “We need to move, now!” he ordered his men. 

“Up through the tower!” Ralof called. Hlin didn’t wait for the others to ascend the steps, she darted up them ahead of the Stormcloak soldiers She had only cleared on flight of stairs when the outer wall exploded open to reveal the burning eyes of the dragon. Hlin stumbled backwards, avoiding the flames from the dragon’s maw. 

Once the dragon flew off to search for another target, Hlin edged back up the stairs. “The rest of it’s blocked in!” She called back. 

Ralof joined her, looking through the opening the dragon made. “You can jump through to that house if you get a running start.” 

“Aye. See you on the other side.” Hlin bid him before leaping across the gap and crashing through the thatch roof. Smoke filled her lungs as she fought through the burning building to get back to the ground. Before she found the staircase, the weakened floor gave out beneath her and she crashed to the floor below in a shower of sparks and embers. 

Hlin found her way out of the burning house and came face to face with the dragon, the only thing between them a small child and Imperial soldier. The soldier was urging the child away from the dragon and out of harm’s way. Hlin dove behind a stone building to avoid the dragon fire once again. When she heard the beast take off, she ran past the Imperial Archers and Battlemages firing arrows and spells at the dragon, desperately trying to take it down. She didn’t stop to see if they were successful, the Empire was on their own as far as she was concerned. She had almost made it to a gate when she was intercepted by Ralof. 

“Come on, into the keep!” He shouted as he herded her towards one of the only remaining buildings. 

Hlin went into the keep with Ralof, bending over and wheezing to catch her breath. She hacked and coughed up mucus mixed with soot and ash, which she spat onto the floor. “Gods could have given us another chance that involved less fire.”

“Aye.” Ralof looked up, as if to relay his sentiment to the Divines. “Dragons, the harbingers of the End Times. To think we get saved from the headsman to only die with Nirn.”

“The dragons can do whatever they please, so long as they don’t bother me.” Hlin shrugged. “If they truly signal the End Times, then it doesn’t matter what we do.”

“You may be right.” Ralof strode across the atrium to the body of one of his fallen comrades. “We will meet in Sovngarde, brother.” He whispered to the body before closing its eyes. He stood, grabbing the soldier’s war axe and brought it to Hlin. “Here. He won’t be needing this anymore. You can see if his armor will fit you. It would be better than the rags the Imperials put you in.”

Hlin hefted the war axe in her hands. As a cleaning servant for House Redoran, she hadn’t had any kind of weapons training. She’d never needed it, and her employers hadn’t felt the need to pay for training for their cleaning staff when they had their  own guards. She could brawl with her fists, and could defend herself with a dagger, but anything beyond that wasn’t something she was comfortable with. 

Voices echoing down one of the halls caught their attention, and Hlin and Ralof hid out of view. Two Imperial soldiers appeared on one side of a gate, opening it and stepping through. Upon catching sight of Ralof and Hlin, they drew their weapons and attacked. The one in what seemed to be officer’s armor went after Ralof, yelling out as she hacked at him with her sword. The other came for Hlin. He wasn’t quite fast enough, not catching her before she danced out of the way of his blade. He stumbled slightly as his blade hit thin air, and Hlin took the opportunity to trip him. He fell to the floor, trying to catch himself and instead impaling himself on his own blade. A sick gurgling sound met Hlin’s ears as the soldier stained the stone beneath them red with his blood. Hlin swallowed, she had cleaned up after executions before, but those hadn’t churned her stomach like watching somebody die within touching distance of her. 

Another gurgling caught her attention, and she turned around just in time to watch Ralof push the other soldier off of his blade. “You okay?” He asked her with concern evident on his face. 

Hlin forced herself to nod, “Aye.”

“This must be your first fight.” Ralof observed, studying her. Hlin nodded again. “Then you must not be from Skyrim.” 

“Correct. I was a servant for House Redoran in Morrowind. They allowed me to leave their service to join the war. I see that I have a lot to learn before I can join the fight.”

“What side did House Redoran approve of you joining?” Ralof asked. 

Hlin looked up, studying Ralof’s sky blue eyes. “Yours.” She said simply. 

“I see. And what does Morrowind have to gain from the Stormcloaks winning?” Ralof’s eyes narrowed.

“Morrowind isn’t the Empire’s biggest fan. House Redoran despises them especially. The East Empire Company has worked mines dry and then left settlements abandoned with Dunmer families poverty stricken without jobs and the town bled of all resources.”

Ralof nodded, he opened his mouth to speak again, but the dragon roaring loud enough to shake the tower around them stopped him. “We can speak of this later. We need to get out of here. You stay behind me. Once we get to safety, I can teach you a thing or two so you can keep yourself safe. Skryim is dangerous enough when you know how to defend yourself.”

“I’m right behind you.” Hlin reassured him.

They left the room through a door that Ralof unlocked with a key he found on the Imperial Captain he had slain. He led the way deeper into the keep, checking over his shoulder every so often to make sure Hlin was close behind him. They reached a door, when he held up his finger to his lips. “ _ I hear people in there”  _ he mouthed silently to her. Understanding, Hlin nodded and waited for him to move. Ralof opened the door and crept silently into the room with Hlin in tow.

Two Imperial soldiers were arguing about whether to save the supplies from the room they were in, not noticing their new companions. Ralof hesitated for a moment, deciding on a plan of attack. He studied the soldiers carefully before moving. He lunged for the one closest to them, letting loose a battle cry that startled them and made them hesitate to draw their weapons. The first soldier went down quickly after Ralof lopped his head off with his sword. The other drew his mace just in time to block Ralof’s attack. 

Hlin edged around the fight, watching as the soldiers dueled. The Imperial soldier used his mace to catch Ralof’s blade and twisted it out of his grip. Before the Imperial could advance Hlin charged him, yelling to distract him like Ralof had earlier. She swung the axe wildly, catching the Imperial at the elbow with the blade and severing the tendon. He dropped his mace, giving Ralof time to snatch it up and bash his face in with his own weapon. 

“Thanks.” Ralof panted before he picked up his sword. “You’re a quick learner. Perhaps you won’t do too bad as a Stormcloak. Let’s get out of here first, before we start measuring you for a uniform though.” He winked at her. “Let’s grab any supplies we can. These two won’t need them.”

They split up, Hlin grabbing food and Ralof grabbing useful potions and ingredients. “See if the armor on that smaller one fits you.” Ralof suggested as he nodded at the soldiers. “Who knows what we’ll find when we go further into the keep.”

Hlin nodded at him and he turned away, giving her as much privacy as he could in the confined space. She stripped out of the rags the Imperial soldiers had put her in and slipped the cuirass of one of the uniforms over her head. Then she realized a problem. “Umm.” She began.

“What is it?” Ralof asked without looking at her. 

“It’s got some belts for size adjusting, but I have no idea how it’s supposed to fit on me.” Hlin confessed.

“Shit. Right.” Ralof ran a hand through his hair, streaking it with red. “Am I okay to turn around and help?” 

“Aye.”

Ralof turned around and approached her. “May I?” He indicated a strap that would secure the shoulder pads to the main body of her armor. Hlin nodded her consent and he worked on tightening the straps. “You want it to be tight enough that it isn’t going to move around on you, but not so tight that you can’t have your full range of motion. “You’re about the same height he was, but he was thicker. This won’t fit you as well as your own set should, but it will do until you can get your own.”

Hlin stretched, testing out the feel of the armor and how it fit. “This isn’t too bad.”

Ralof chuckled, “Just wait til you’ve been marching in the same armor for three days in the snow.” Ralof indicated for her to follow him out of the room. 

Hlin made a face. “Never much cared for snow. Though it’s better than ash, I suppose.”

“Aye.” Ralof stopped dead, looking ahead. “Ysmir’s beard! A torture room!” He hissed as he drew his sword and charged forward. 

Hlin took a deep breath and steeled herself. She knew the Imperials used torture as an interrogation technique. Some of the guards around Blacklight had been part of the Legion during the Great War. Though Morrowind and the Great Houses had no love of the Empire and Titus Mede, they were still a part of it. Both sides of the Great War had used torture, and a guard Hlin was friends with had plenty of scars from his own time as a prisoner of the Aldmeri Dominion. She followed Ralof down the remaining steps, using her axe to clumsily swing at one of the soldiers in the Imperial uniform. 

Another Stormcloack soldier had already been in the room before Hlin and Ralof found it. The two Stormcloak soldiers cornered one of the Imperials while Hlin held her own against another one. The torturers used their magic, and Hlin almost dropped her axe when her arm was burned. Summoning up what magic abilities she had, Hlin cast a healing spell to numb the pain. Her body was thrumming with adrenaline, and she used the burst of energy to leap at her opponent, slashing the axe at his face. Hlin’s weight thrown against him knocked the soldier over, and her axe finished the job, ending his life with a spray of crimson. 

“Bastards.” Hlin spat the blood out of her mouth. 

“Let’s keep moving.” Ralof wiped blood from a slice across his cheek. 

“Hold on.” Hlin summoned her healing magic again and offered it to Ralof. 

“Magic user, huh?” He asked as he let the golden spell wash over him.

“Just basic healing. Can’t do much else beyond that.”

“I see. Useful skill to have. Thank you.” Ralof nodded to her. “Are you coming with us?” He asked the other Stormcloak, a blonde woman with gray eyes.

“Aye. Can’t really go back the way we came, unless I want to be dragon food. Have you seen Jarl Ulfric?” The woman asked with a thick accent. 

“He was behind us for a while. I’m not too worried about him. He can take care of himself.” Ralof  tried to smile reassuringly at his comrade. She nodded and turned to carry on, but Hlin could see the worry in her ally’s eyes. 

Hlin and Ralof followed after the other Stormcloak. They came to another chamber where a handful of Imperial soldiers were gathered. Hlin screamed as loud as she could, utilizing the echo of the stone chamber around them to confuse their opponents while the three of them worked to take them out. The Imperials were tired and worn out, providing a challenge only to the untrained Hlin. Their comrade, who introduced herself as Netine

After passing through another chamber full of Frostbite spiders, and sneaking past a sleeping bear, Hlin and Ralof finally found themselves breathing fresh air. 


	2. Chapter 2

Hlin and Ralof trudged down the trail towards Riverwood with Ralof leading the way. Hlin was distracted by all of the colors and fresh air. Morrowind was no longer a place of fresh air and bright fauna. Ash from the Red Mountain clogged every body of water and suffocated most plant life before it even got a chance to bloom. 

“So, I have a question, if you don’t mind my asking.” Ralof looked over his shoulder at her. 

“Aye? What is it?” Hlin asked him. 

“If you’ve never fought before, what happened here?” He gestured to his own right eye. 

Hlin touched her own right eye, feeling the smooth burn scars. She was blind in that eye, the iris and pupil had been milky white as long as she could remember. “My parents were living in Cyrodiil during the Great War. Our village was sacked by the Dominion for Talos worship after the Concordat. I had only seen three winters. A member of the Legion who had been discharged was on his way home to Blacklight when he saw the smoke from the village. He pulled me out of the burning house and healed me as much as his magic allowed. Once he saw I was the only survivor, he took me home with him to Blacklight and I was raised by the servants in House Redoran until I was old enough to work. Then I also served House Redoran until recently.”

“I see.” Ralof led her off the path to the river, using the clear water to rinse the soot off of his face and arms. Hlin followed suit, relishing the feel of the cool water as it ran down her skin. Once her hands were clean, she used her cupped hands to drink from the river as well. “And what made you want to come to Skyrim and join the Stormcloaks?”

“It’s not so much joining the Stormcloaks as it is fighting the Empire.” Hlin looked at Ralof in time to see him nod once in understanding. “The Empire’s ‘peace treaty’ is what ended up killing my parents. Since the war here has picked up in earnest, the Empire has taxed Morrowind more heavily and they’re drafting hundreds by the day to fight their war.”

“Exactly what they did to Skyrim thirty years ago.” Ralof observed solemnly. 

Hlin nodded. “Aye, and now we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands.” Hlin pushed herself up from the riverbank. “Where are we headed?”

“We’re going to Riverwood, where I grew up. My sister will be able to provide a place for us to rest until we can get moving again.”

“Will you return to Windhelm?” Hlin asked. 

“I plan to. You’re more than welcome to return with me, if you would still like to join the fight.” Ralof took the lead again down the path. 

“I should learn how to fight before I actually join the fight.”

“Once we get to Riverwood, I can teach you some basics. They have a blacksmith as well, so we can get you armor that fits you properly.”

Hlin hummed in acknowledgement as she followed Ralof further down the trail. The sun had begun its descent in the late afternoon, bathing the mountain foothills in a golden hue. Hlin was exhausted, her muscles sore from so much exertion. She couldn’t remember the last time she had actually eaten. She wished they had thought to grab food stuffs from the store room.

As if hearing her thoughts, Ralof looked back to her. “We’re almost there.” Hlin’s stomach rumbled enthusiastically. Her companion chuckled as he realized what the sound was. 

Almost was an understatement, they rounded the next bend in the road and Hlin took in the sight of a small village. The river churned the wheel of a lumber mill, powering the conveyor that was working to split logs from an enormous pile. Two children ran through the town, chased by a dog barking happily after them. 

“My sister runs the mill.” Ralof had slowed his pace to walk beside her. He guided her over a bridge that crossed a small arm of the river that branched between the mill and the rest of the town. 

They approached a woman bent over a table with a quill, pouring over a ledger book. “Gerdur,” Ralof called softly as they approached.

The woman whipped around, she had Ralof’s golden hair, but her eyes were a deep brown instead of clear blue like her brother’s. “Ralof? Ralof, where have you been? We’d heard that Ulfric and his guard had been ambushed-”

“Gerdur, it’s okay. I’m here.” Ralof closed the distance and pulled his sister into a hug. 

“And who is this?” Gerdur looked at Hlin, narrowing her eyes as she took in the Imperial uniform. 

“She’s not one of them. She was on the cart with us to Helgen. We helped each other get out.”

“And what of Ulfric?” Gerdur furrowed her brows in worry.

“Let’s get somewhere safe, then I’ll tell you everything.” Ralof reassured his sister with a hand on her shoulder. 

Gerdur nodded, then called up to a man working in the mill. “Hod, I need you to come down here!”

Hod turned, and surprise was evident on his face. “Ralof! Good to see you alive and well, brother!” He climbed down to the ground and strode across the remaining space to pull Ralof into a firm embrace. “What brings you home, boy?” 

“Let’s get them inside, first.” Gerdur started pushing Ralof towards town again.  

“Aye, we need to sit down.” Ralof agreed as he let himself be pushed through town. Hlin followed the family through their village, taking in the little community. They reached Gerdur’s house, and she let them all in. Before Gerdur could shut the door, a child barreled through the door and threw his arms around Ralof. 

“Uncle Ralof! You’re home! Did you really meet Ulfric Stormcloak? How many Imperials have you killed? Can I hold your sword?” The boy was smiling up at his uncle in admiration, asking his questions so quickly, he was out of breath and had to pant to regain it. 

“Easy there,” Ralof mussed the boy’s hair. “How about you go grab yourself a treat from the traders and let me talk with your mother?” Ralof handed the boy a handful of Septims. 

“Wow! Thanks Uncle Ralof!” The boy took off back through the door. 

Once the door had shut once again, Ralof sat down at the table. Gerdur turned to the pot and ladled what smelled like stew into a bowl and set it in front of him. She ladled up another bowl and put it on the table, gesturing for Hlin to sit down as well. “By the Nine, I can’t remember the last time I ate something.” Ralof groaned as he took a bite. 

“So what happened to you?” Gerdur asked as she sat down next to her brother. 

“Where do I even begin? The last time I slept was… two days ago? I was riding with Ulfric back to Windhelm. We were ambushed just outside of Darkwater Crossing. They took us to Helgen for execution.”

“No!” Gerdur gasped and covered her mouth in horror. 

“Hlin here was next for the block.” Ralof nodded to Hlin. “She was saved because a dragon attacked.”

“A dragon?” Hod asked in disbelief.

“If I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t believe it either.” Hlin said before also taking a bite of the stew. The groan she let out was borderline inappropriate for her company, but she didn’t care. She forced herself to take her time eating, knowing she would make herself sick if she ate too quickly. 

“Aye. Hlin was picked up for crossing the border. She was coming over to join the Stormcloaks, so they threw her in the cart with us.”

“Those bastards.” Gerdur swore. “Well, you two are welcome to stay here as long as you need to before you head to Windhelm. I do have a request to ask of you, though.”

“Anything, in return for your hospitality.” Hlin said as Ralof nodded in agreement. 

"The Jarl needs to know what’s going on. If there are dragons about, Riverwood is in danger. We have no guards and the village needs protection.”

“We can head to Whiterun in the morning, if Hlin is feeling up to it.” Ralof assured Gerdur. 

“Thank you.” Gerdur smiled at them. She stood and went to get herself a bowl of stew. “We don’t have extra beds, but Hod still has a couple of his bed rolls from his time in the Legion.”

“Those will be more than fine. Thank you, sister.” Ralof smiled at Gerdur. “In the morning, we can go see Alvor and get you fitted into some proper armor for you.”

“Isn’t his nephew in the Legion?” Hod asked. “You may want to wait until you get to Whiterun before you get her some armor. Adrianne may be from Cyrodiil, but she won’t rat you out to the Imperials if you’re avoiding them.”

“That’s a good point. Adrianne’s steel holds better than Alvor’s anyway.” 

Hlin stared into her now empty stew bowl. Hearing what her companions were saying, but not fully comprehending. 

“Hod, where do you have those bedrolls? She looks like she’s about to fall asleep at the table.” Gerdur said lowly.

“Aye.” Hod disappeared into the section of the house that their beds were in and could be heard rustling through a trunk.

“It’s been a long day. She’s never seen battle before and she made it through that mess.” Ralof sighed. 

“And you’ve taken her in as your own.” Gerdur observed. 

Ralof scoffed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. You take in strays and take care of them until they’re strong enough to get by on their own. How many injured animals did you bring home when we were kids?”

Hlin fought against her body to stay awake, but she realized she lost as the voices of Ralof and his family faded away into nothing.

* * *

“Halt! City is closed with the dragons about.”  The guard in the yellow uniform barred their entrance into the city. Hlin and Ralof had changed into borrowed clothes from Gerdur and Hod. Ralof was in a simple green tunic with breeches while Hlin was in a blue dress. 

“We’re here to see the Jarl. Gerdur of Riverwood calls for aid.” Ralof told the guard without a single waiver in his voice. 

“Very well, we’ll let you in. But cause any trouble and I’ll personally throw you in the Dragonsreach dungeon myself.”

“Aye, we know. Don’t break the law. We’re farmers, not bandits.” Ralof grumbled as he rolled his eyes. Hlin followed him into the city and kept close as he lead her straight to a smithy where an Imperial woman was shaping a sword on an anvil. 

“Adrianne, how are you?” Ralof called to her over the clanging of the hammer against the pliable steel. 

The woman stopped her work, dousing the sword in the trough of water. Her eyes were fierce, like a hawk as she scrutinized the two of them. “Ralof. Good to see you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We need some armor. And I’d like to get a new hammer.” Ralof told her.

“New armor, eh? Decided the soldier’s life isn’t for you?” The smith crossed her arms and smirked at him. 

“Just laying low until I get back to Windhelm. We were ambushed and our company was scattered.” Ralof countered.

“And what about her?” Adrianne nodded to Hlin.    
  
“I’m not a soldier. I’m hoping to join, though. So I’m going to be going with him when he returns to Windhelm.”  Hlin said with her head held high.

“I see. Do you know what type of armor you favor?” The woman pulled a thin rope that was knotted at regular intervals from a pocket in her apron. 

“I’ve been wearing leather armor. I liked it well enough.” Hlin told her as the woman started taking her measurements. 

“You’re not built for heavy armor. At least not right now.” Adrianne observed as she measured Hlin’s shoulders. “Heavy armor is no good if you can’t move due to the weight.”

Ralof nodded in agreement. “We should probably get her a better axe. She’s been using a dull iron one. Unless you want to try a sword or mace?” He asked Hlin.

“No, I liked the axe. Having a better one would be nice. I can use the dull one for training or something.”

“Aye.” 

“And how do you plan on paying for all of this?” Adrianne asked them with a sharp look at Ralof. 

“Ah, yes!” Ralof pulled a scroll our and handed it to Adrianne. 

Adrianne read the message carefully and then nodded. “This is agreeable. I should have everything ready after midday for you.”

“Thank you, Adrianne. We appreciate it.” Ralof smiled at the smith and led Hlin away. “Next stop, Dragonsreach.”

“Whiterun and Riverwood seem pretty split on the war.” Hlin observed as a man in an Imperial uniform passed them. 

“Aye. The divide between sides is more obvious in Whiterun. You have the Grey Manes and Battle-Borns feuding because of the sides they chose in the war.” Ralof waved at one of the merchants, an elderly woman selling jewelry and trinkets. 

“Large clans, I take it?” Hlin asked.

“Aye. Both families have been here since the founding of the city.” They climbed the steps from the market to the next section of a city, where a giant dying tree sat in the center. A priest stood in front of a statue of Talos, shouting about the outlawed Divine.

“He’s allowed to preach about Talos even though worship is outlawed?” Hlin asked incredulously.

“Aye. I think Whiterun is trying to avoid doing anything that will anger either side and bring the war further into Whiterun. The Jarl is going to have to choose at some point.” 

They climbed the steps leading up to Dragonsreach. Hlin couldn’t stop herself from taking in the breathtaking view of the surrounding tundra. She could see for miles in every direction. For the first time that she could remember, Hlin felt like she had found a place she could call home. 


	3. Chapter 3

Hlin followed Ralof as he led her into Dragonsreach. She couldn't help but gawk at the Nordic architecture. Morrowind had avoided using flammable materials to build homes with since the Red Mountain erupted, and interior decoration relied on tapestries and rugs crafted in rich colors. The Nords, Hlin noticed, favored exposed wooden support beams with intricate patterns carved into the wood. There were two cleaning servants in the first level of the grand hall that seemed to make up the majority of the building. Two small flights of stairs lead up to an enormous fire that warmed the entire hall, flanked by two grand dining tables laden with silver platters filled with food. As they climbed the stairs to approach the raised dias where a blond middle-aged Nord was lounging in a chair and arguing with a balding Imperial. An armored Dunmer woman drew her sword and prowled towards them. Her crimson eyes burned into them and Hlin prepared to flee the building.

“What is the meaning of this? Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors at this time.” The Dunmer glared between the two of them. 

“Gerdur of Riverwood sent us. We have information about the dragon attack at Helgen, sera.” Hlin stepped forward, hoping that the Dunmer would find her less intimidating than Ralof.

“Wait, Irileth, let them speak.” The Nord on the throne beckoned them forward. “You know about the dragon? What can you tell me?” His hair was the same shade as his gold circlet, with just a touch of silver throughout. His stony grey eyes were weary, but kind. 

“We were in Helgen when the dragon attacked. It destroyed the entire town. We were lucky that we survived.” Hlin told him. “We watched it fly over Riverwood and towards the mountains.”

“Avenicci, you hear this? You expect me to sit idly by while a dragon slaughters people and destroys the hold?” the Jarl glared at the Imperial. “Irileth, send a detachment of guards to Riverwood immediately.”

“Yes, my Jarl.” the Dunmer bowed and took off across the hall.

“As for you two, thank you for coming to me. What more can you tell me about the dragon attack?”

“The Imperials were about to execute Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak when the dragon attacked.” Hlin noticed how Ralof left out that she was the one on the chopping block at the time. 

“Of course Ulfric is involved in this. I would honestly be surprised if he wasn’t.” Jarl Balgruuf sighed. 

“Jarl Balgruuf, I am not from Skyrim. I came here from Morrowind to find a place among my fellow Nords.” Hlin was cautious with her words. “What I know of the war is from families with loved ones on one side or another. Since I have heard that you are the most neutral of the Jarls, what is your take on the war if I may ask?” 

Balgruuf narrowed his eyes at her. “I think this war is ridiculous. While I was not thrilled when we signed the White Gold Concordat, sometimes a leader must look past his own views for the benefit of his people. Ulfric is being unreasonable. Before the Markarth incident, families could still worship Talos in private, but his incident with the Forsworn and the Reach got the attention of the Aldmeri Dominion, which is why they started raiding homes in Skyrim.” The Jarl rubbed at his temples and sighed, “When people ask what side I am on, they are not satisfied when I tell them that I am forever on the side of Whiterun and her people.”

“I… understand, Jarl Balgruuf.” Hlin nodded. “Thank you for your insight.” 

Ralof’s jaw was set tight, but he said nothing, allowing Jarl Balgruuf to continue. “I served in the Legion alongside Ulfric. We were great friends, once, but he’s let his hatred of the Aldmeri Dominion cloud his vision. The man leading a rebellion across Skyrim is not the Ulfric that I once knew.”

“I can't imagine the position this war must put you in. You've given me a lot to think about, ser.”

The Jarl raised one of his golden eyebrows at her. “Well, then. I would ask that you two stay within the city in case my advisors have any more questions about this dragon. Tell Hulda at the Bannered Mare that I am paying for your room.” 

This seemed to shock Ralof, he inclined his head to Balgruuf, “Thank you, my Jarl. We appreciate your hospitality.”

The Jarl nodded at them. “You've done me a greater service by telling me about the dragon. It's the least I can do. Now I must return to running the city. We will send for you if we need you.”

Hlin and Ralof both bowed to Balgruuf and turned to leave Dragonsreach. They made their way down the stairs and stopped to sit at one of the benches under the large, barren tree. 

“So, we’ve still got quite a bit of time before our armor is ready. Do you have anything that you wanted to do while we’re in Whiterun?” Ralof asked her. 

“I did want to see Jorrvaskr, but maybe we should do it after we have our armor.” Hlin looked at the meadhall wistfully. “I don’t want to seem like I just want to gawk at the warriors.”

“You would like to join them?” Ralof’s eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Maybe someday.” Hlin sighed. “You’ve seen me in combat. I’m not cut out to be called a Companion just yet.”

“Just give it time, you’ve got a good start. Maybe after we win this war, aye? We can still visit and maybe hear a story from the Circle.”

“Aye. We may be here for a while. I know how long it takes the nobility to get things done. For now, let’s grab some lunch.”

“Aye.” Ralof nodded and stood, stretching. “I could go for a mead. Let’s go to the Bannered Mare and get our rooms set up.”

Hlin followed Ralof back to the market. They had only gotten a few paces away from the stairs when somebody called out.

“Ralof? Is that you?” 

The two of them turned to find an Imperial woman around Gerdur’s age setting her broom against a stall and striding towards them.

“Carlotta?” Ralof smiled at the woman and held out his arms to embrace her. “I haven’t seen you in years. How is Ingmar?”

Carlotta pulled away, a grim look on her face. She wore her stress in fine lines around her eyes and accentuating her frown. “He died in a bandit raid a few years ago.”

“Talos,” Ralof swore. “I’m so sorry, Carlotta. How are you holding up?”

“I’m doing okay. Mila doesn’t remember him much, so she doesn’t miss him. I’m not sure if that’s a blessing or not.”

“And what is it you’re not telling me?” Ralof raised one eyebrow at her, and even Hlin wanted to tell him her secrets.

“Ever since we’ve moved to Whiterun, I’ve been fighting off suitors. I’m just not ready to move on yet and these men are flocking to me like I have an amulet of Mara on!”

“Is there one in specific?” Ralof prodded. 

“It’s that damn bard, Mikael.” 

“Maybe we can convince him to leave you alone.” Hlin offered.

Carlotta snorted. “Right. If you can convince that slimeball to leave me alone, I’ll forever be in your debt. I’ve even called the guards on him and he won’t stop.”

Hlin felt a flash of rage at that. “And where can we find him?” 

“He works at the Mare. He’s in there now.” Carlotta said. 

Hlin wasted no time in marching up the stairs and opening the doors to the tavern. She glared around the room until she found her target by the fire, strumming at his lute. She approached him and glared at him, drawing up to her full height. 

“What can I help you with, my lady?” The blond bard smirked at her. Confidence rolled off of him in waves and Hlin couldn’t wait to put him in his place. 

“You can leave Carlotta alone.” Hlin spat out. 

Mikael’s smirk slid off his face. His brows furrowed and he put his lute down on the chair next to him. “I’m sorry, but that feisty widow is mine. I’m not going to stop until everybody knows it.”

“This is your last warning. Back off, or I’ll make you back off.” Hlin stepped closer, growling in his face. She could see Ralof out of the corner of her eye, ready to jump in if she needed help. 

“Is that jealousy that I hear?” Mikael taunted. “You’ll just have to-” Hlin cut him off with a punch to the jaw. 

Mikael stumbled back and didn’t have time to recover before Hlin was on him again. She kneed him in the balls and grabbed a fistful of his hair to yank his head back so she could look him in the eye. 

“I will say this only once, so listen closely you s’wit.” Hlin snarled as she pulled her dagger from its sheath. “Carlotta has requested time and again for you to leave her alone. She is not interested and will not change her mind. If I hear that you continue to disturb her after this conversation, I will make sure that no woman will want to bed you again.” To emphasize her point, Hlin pressed her blade against Mikael’s groin. “Have I made myself clear?”

Mikael was trembling and Hlin felt wetness against the hand that held her dagger. “Of course. All talk and when it comes down to it, you piss yourself when it’s time for the action. Typical milk drinker.” Ralof scoffed from behind her. 

Hlin let go of him, keeping her blade arm away from her clothing as Mikael retreated out the door with a glare over his shoulder at them. 

“Don’t move. I’ll get you something to clean up.” The older woman at the bar called before turning and bending over to rummage in some shelves.

“I’m glad Gerdur didn’t give you something with long sleeves.” Ralof shook his head. “You alright?” He asked her. 

Hlin nodded. “I’m fine. Will you go check on Carlotta? I don’t trust him not to lash out at her after that.”

Ralof’s eyes widened, having not considered that. “I’ll be back.”

Hlin nodded at him as the barkeep appeared by her with a bucket of steaming water. “Here, dear.” She wet a rag and used it to wipe down Hlin’s arm. “I’ve not seen you around here, which means you’re new to Whiterun. That was a noble thing you did for Carlotta.”

“You must be Hulda?” Hlin asked. When the woman nodded, Hlin smiled at her. “I’m surprised it had to get to this point. In Blacklight, once the guards were called, that would have been it.”

“Blacklight, huh? You’re a long way from home.” Hulda mused as she rinsed the rag again and took the dagger from Hlin to clean it off. 

“Aye. I’m in Whiterun for the time being. Jarl Balgruuf said he would be paying for a room for my friend and I.”

Hulda’s eyes widened. “You must be the girl that survived Helgen. One of the Jarl’s men told me to expect you. I already have the room set up for you two.” She handed the dagger back to Hlin. 

“Thank you, sera. I appreciate it.” The doors to the tavern opened once more to reveal Ralof and Carlotta. 

“Ralof told me what happened. I’d thank the Gods, but I’ll settle for just thanking you.” Carlotta pulled out her coin purse. 

“Oh, please. I can’t accept your coin.” Hlin held up her hand. “It was the right thing to do.”

“I must insist. You’ve saved me from having to pay a mercenary to stand by my cart.”

Hlin sighed. “Are you sure? I don’t want to take food from your table.”

Carlotta shook her head. “Mila and I have enough to eat. Ralof told me what you two have been through. I want to do this for you, please.”

Hlin looked to Ralof, who nodded encouraginly. “Thank you, Carlotta. I still would have done it anyway.” She smiled at the widow, who handed her a smaller coin purse that was filled. 

“I’d join you for lunch, but I have to mind the stand. Stop by again before you head out.” Carlotta smiled at both of them before she left them in the half empty tavern. 

Hlin wandered over to the bar where Hulda was cleaning tankards with a rag. “What can I get you?”

“Two glasses of mead and a bowl of whatever is on the fire.” Ralof pulled a stool out and sat down on it, leaning his arms against the bar. He pulled out his own coin purse.

“Is he with you?” Hulda asked Hlin. When Hlin nodded, she waved her hand at Ralof. “No need. Lunch is on the house after you put that bard in his place. You wouldn’t believe the filth I’ve heard out of his mouth when he thought nobody could hear him.”

Thank you, again, sera.” Hlin sat down next to Ralof while Hulda filled two tankards with mead. 

“Now I don’t need any of that ‘sera’ business. Just call me Hulda, please.” Hulda set the tankards in front of them and smiled as Ralof drank deeply from his. A Redguard woman came up to the bar with two steaming plates of pheasant breast and potatoes for them. Hlin immediately tucked into her food. 

“So, Hulda. What’s the word around town?” Ralof asked before taking a bite of his potatoes. 

“Fralia and Euorland’s boy has gone missing. They claim the Battle-Borns are behind it.” Hulda frowned and shook her head. “This war is ripping Skyrim apart and blinding both sides to each other’s suffering. Olfrid was  _ taunting _ Fralia earlier saying that she knows nothing of suffering when her own son could be hurt or worse.”

“Divines,” Ralof’s face was grim. “Anything else?”

“The mead you’re drinking is from the new meadery down the road. Their prices are better than Blackbriar and he doesn’t attend parties thrown by the Dominion.” Hulda took Ralof’s empty tankard and refilled it. 

“It’s not bad.” Ralof took another drink.

“And the Companions are recruiting. You should swing by Jorrvaskr when you get a chance.”

“We were planning on it once we pick up our armor from Adrianne.” Hlin finished her own mead, shaking her head when Hulda lifted her mug in question. “We aren’t joining, but we are hoping to hear a story and maybe some training for me if possible.”

“Why not join? It’s good coin and they provide food and living quarters for all of their members.”

“They’re also expected to remain neutral in the war. I can’t join them while I’m still a Stormcloak. And she came to Skyrim to join the fight. Not exactly free of bias here.”

“This war is going to last longer than you think, son. I would consider it if I were you before this war takes more from you than you can possibly give.”

“If they will still have me, I will think about it.” Ralof finished the last of his mead. 

Hlin stood first, and Ralof rose with her. “Think Adrianne is about done with our armor?” She asked him. 

“Just about. Let’s go pick it up. We can change in our room here and then head over to Jorrvaskr to see about joining.” 

“Aye.” Hlin followed Ralof out of the Bannered Mare and back into the market. A gaggle of children ran past them, laughing jovially. They made their way down the natural slope of the city to Warmaiden’s, where Adrianne was using a rag to wipe down a war hammer. 

Adrianne looked up as they approached, her golden eyes sharp. “Perfect timing, you two! Let me finish polishing this war hammer and you’ll be good to go!” 

The smith made three more quick passes over the hammer’s head with her cloth before handing it to Ralof. He hefted it in his hands, testing the weight of it with a smile on his face. “You put so much effort into making it look pretty. It’s a shame it’s going to be used only for death.”

“You’re representing my work out there. I need to make sure it looks good even if it’s only killing wolves.” Adrianne turned and picked up two large sacks from beside her workbench. “You two are lucky I had armor close to your sizes in the shop. Otherwise, you’d be waiting a few more days.”

“Thank you, Adrianne, I appreciate it.” Ralof took both sacks in his hands while Hlin took his new hammer. “I would trust no one else to keep me alive in the field.”

“I appreciate that, Ralof. Now, if anything doesn’t fit, let me know so we can adjust it.” Adrianne told them as they headed back towards the Bannered Mare to change. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos keep me motivated!


	4. Chapter 4

Hlin and Ralof set the sacks of armor on the bed and both reached to start working at the fastenings of their clothes. They noticed the other beginning to undress and paused. 

“You're not uncomfortable dressing in the same room, are you? I can step out if you would like.” Ralof started. 

“I was actually about to offer to step out in case you were uncomfortable.” Hlin said with a smile. “I'm used to sharing space with others. Servants’ quarters don't have privacy.”

“Neither do Stormcloak camps.” Ralof laughed softly. 

“I'm comfortable if you are.”

“Aye. I can help you if you have difficulties with your armor.”

“Thanks.” Hlin undid the laces to her dress and let it fall, leaving her in her breast bindings and smalls. Ralof paid no mind as he also stripped down.  Hlin slowly buckled her armor on, memorizing every strap and fastening as she went along. Ralof had his entire set on by the time she was halfway through her cuirass. He started to make his way around the bed to help her, but she held up her hand to stop him.  “I should do it myself. I have to learn. Can’t have you putting my armor on for me everyday.”

“That is a crucial skill for soldiers to learn.” Ralof joked as he sat on the bed to watch her. 

“So why did you join the Stormcloaks?” Hlin asked as she finished with her cuirass and started to pull on her boots.

“I’m not old enough to remember the Great War, but I saw the effects of it every day growing up.  My father was a Legionaire and died in Skingrad in a Dominion ambush. Ma wasn’t the same after. She drank herself blind by my twelfth winter. I don’t hate the Empire, but I’ve always been angry at them for doing that to my family and letting the Dominion continue to destroy others.” There was a fire in his stormy blue eyes as he continued. “I fight because the Empire under the Dominion’s thumb will sentance anybody to death. You had been in Skyrim less than a day, and they sentenced you to death for being in the wrong place at the wrong time with no questions asked.”

Hlin said nothing as she considered his words. She knew that there were hundreds, if not thousands of people with stories like his. She could relate to losing parents to the Dominion, but she hadn’t had to witness a slow decline fueled by grief  like Ralof had. 

“So the Dominion is the problem, in your opinion?” Hlin asked.

“Of course they are. They’re the ones that gave us the option of sign the Concordat and surrender or continue to send our soldiers to die. Skyrim was able to act fairly independently of the Empire until the Markarth Incident.” Ralof huffed.

“I see. Thank you for sharing, Ralof. It’s been enlightening.” Hlin smiled at him gently. “Shall we head to Jorrvaskr?” She asked as she slid her war axes into  loops at her waist.

“Aye,” Ralof picked up his hammer and followed her down the stairs and through the tavern. THey walked side by side through town until they climbed the steps of the legendary mead hall. 

Hlin opened the doors and Ralof followed her in. A crowd was gathered in a semi circle, and a pair of brawlers could be seen exchanging blows in the center. A Dunmer man with firey red hair pulled into a high ponytail swung a sharp right hook at an Imperial woman with red war paint striped across her cheeks.  The woman dodged his blow and launched herself at him, but he spun out of her way and used the flat of his hand to deliver a sharp blow to her lower back. A pained yelp came from the woman as she tumbled down to the floor. 

“Are you two quite done yet?” A fierce Nord woman with green war paint that brought out her silvery eyes glared from where she sat at one of the long tables with a tankard of mead. 

“Aye, Aela, if this one will admit that I bested her.” The Dunmer indicated the Imperial lying on the ground trying to catch her breath. 

“I hope you choke on your mead.” The Imperial spat. 

“Close enough.” The Dunmer shrugged as he offered his arm to the woman. She grabbed it and he helped her off the floor. Turning, he made eye contact with Hlin and Ralof. “If you’re looking for the tavern, it’s the other one by the Apothecary and general store.”  All of the eyes in the mead hall turned to them, Hlin resisted the urge to squirm under their gazes. 

“We’re not here for mead.”  Ralof stated. “My friend here wants to join.” 

“Really?”  The Nord woman at the table stood up and walked closer to them. She moved with a predatory grace and Hlin’s instincts were screaming at her to do something.  “Have you fought before?” 

“I survived Helgen.”  Hlin managed. “Not many can say that.” 

“Word is Helgen was destroyed by a dragon. If that is to be believed, then I would be impressed. Whether you are worthy to join is not my call, though. You’ll want to talk to Kodlak Whitemane. He is down below, in his office.” 

“Thank you, Companion.”  Hlin bowed slightly before setting off at a brisk pace that was barely short of running. Ralof followed her down the stairs, an amused look on his face. 

“You went almost as red as her hair.” He teased.

“Oh Azura that's embarrassing.” Hlin could feel her face heat up even more. 

“Don’t worry about it. I imagine Aela the Huntress is used to both men and women finding her appealing.” Ralof clapped her on the back. 

“You know her?” Hlin asked.

“She is one of the Circle, a senior member of the Companions.  It is rumored that she is descended from one of the original five hundred Companions of Ysgramor.” 

“Damn.” Hlin breathed. 

She and Ralof had been following two voices quietly discussing something down the hall. They had reached the end of the hall and stood in the doorway. A dark haired man sat across from who could only be Kodlak. “I still feel the call.” 

“We all do, and we must learn to resist it, for ourselves and others.” Kodlak turned to look at them. “We have visitors, now.” 

Hlin stepped forward, her voice sounding braver than she felt. “I wish to join the Companions.” 

“Do you now? Step forward, girl.” Kodlak ordered. He stood, with some difficulty and looked her over, circling her. “Hmm, yes.” He came to stop in front of her, and used an armored hand to tilt her chin up so he could look in her eyes. “A certain strength of Spirit, what is your name, girl?.” 

"I am Hlin, of Blacklight.” 

“Master, you’re not truly considering her? I have never heard of her, she is an outsider.”  The man who had remained sitting at the table crossed his arms.

“I am nobody’s master, Vilkas. And it does not matter if she has attained glory in battle yet. Sometimes the famous come to us, and other times they rise to their destinies during their time with us. How are you with a blade, girl?” 

“I have much to learn,” Hlin looked down.

“An honest answer. What about you, boy? Are you here to join us as well?” Kodlak asked Ralof. 

“If you will have me, Harbinger. I know the Companions are supposed to remain neutral in war and politics, but I have fought in the Stormcloaks.”  Ralof looked at the ground sheepishly. “I know I cannot return to civilian life after this war is over, and would rather fight for honor and glory rather than for coin as a mercenary.”

“And you plan on seeing this war out before fully joining?” Kodlak asked.

“Aye, though I am not sure when I will return to Windhelm. I am to stay in the hold to assist Jarl Balgruuf with something before rejoining the front lines.” 

Kodlak considered the two of them for a moment. “Very well. Vilkas and Farkas will test your arms. Vilkas, take these two up to the yard with your brother.”

The dark haired man sighed. “Yes, Harbinger,” before standing and pushing past the two of them to head back up the stairs. 

Hlin looked at Ralof, who shrugged, before they both followed Vilkas up the stairs.  He led the two of them out the back doors and barked at a man sitting at one of the tables under the awning of the mead hall who bore a resemblance to him. “We’re to test these two whelps.”  

“Two on the same day?”  The man asked. “Which one do you want?” 

“I have no preference. They’re both whelps and we have to do what Kodlak wants.” 

“I’ll take the pretty one, then.”  Farkas grinned at them.

“Well, you heard him, Ralof. Go on,” Hlin pushed him towards the brother. 

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but I’m glad you were the one to admit I’m the pretty one.”  Ralof shot her a smirk before following Farkas to the training field. Farkas carried a greatsword on his back, and would be a good match for Ralof’s warhammer.

“Alright, just a few swings to see how you fight.” Farkas said. He drew his sword from his back as Ralof readied his hammer. They both waited for a breath before Farkas struck. He swung his sword overhead, in what would be a devastating blow if it landed on Ralof’s head as it was intended. Ralof was quick, and familiar with the weight of his hammer. He used the reinforced handle to block the blow before knocking the sword off it’s path. Farkas was off balance for only a moment, just enough time to counter the swing of Ralof’s hammer. The two danced about each other, Farkas’s strength matching Ralof’s speed. The two of them were panting when Vilkas held up his hand.

“Enough. It is clear you’ve had your training. Now it’s her turn.” Vilkas indicated Hlin. He picked up a shield and shortsword from one of the tables. 

Hlin and Ralof traded places while the brothers exchanged whispered words. Ralof placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and smiled at her.  “You’ve got this. You survived Helgen.” 

“I survived Helgen,” Hlin repeated as she pulled her new war axe. 

Ralof and Farkas cleared the training yard. Other Companions had left the mead hall to watch the commotion outside. The Dunmer, as well as a blond Nord with a thick beard stood leaning against opposite sides of one of the pillars, and an old man with one milky white eye stood further back with his arms crossed. 

Hlin didn’t wait for Vilkas to strike, knowing he had many advantages against her. She went to dart past him, aiming to strike at the back of his legs as she passed. He caught onto her plan, and hooked the blade of his sword between the blade of her axe and the handle, tangling their weapons together. Thinking quickly, Hlin took the other axe that was still in her belt and used it to strike him square in the back with the side of the blade as she let go of the first axe. Vilkas spun around, sending the tangled axe skittering across the stone. He lunged at her, shield raised and sword curving in a horizontal arc, aiming for her unprotected and unarmed side. Hlin rolled to the side, grabbing her discarded axe from the ground. There was a cheer from the crowd as she came up from the roll and held both axes at the ready in a crouch. Vilkas mimicked the move that his brother had opened with, coming down hard with his sword. Hlin crossed both of her axes in front of her, stopping the path of his blade. Using his size and momentum, she rolled on to her back and kicked out, sending him sprawling to the ground. Hlin could hear the air leave his lungs as he landed. Warily, she stood and glanced quickly at their audience. Ralof looked on proudly, and The Dunmer and his friend were stifling laughter while Vilkas picked himself off the ground behind her. 

“Not bad. You have good instincts that make up for a lack of technique. It will do, for now. You're still both whelps, though.”

“Aww don't be so harsh with ‘em, Vilkas!” the blond Nord slurred.

“I should have been more harsh with you.” Vilkas snapped. He took his greatsword and its sheath from his back and handed it to Hlin.” Take this up to Eorlund at the Skyforge for sharpening. Don't drop it, it's worth more than you.”

“Noted.” Hlin put her mismatched axes back in her belt and held the greatsword with both hands. 

Ralof joined her, carrying Farkas’ sword. “Taking it for sharpening?” he asked her.

“Aye.” Hlin said as they worked towards the stairs leading to the Skyforge. 

“Using the two weapons suits you.” Ralpf commented. 

“You think so? I just reacted. Didn't really think about it and used what I had available.”

“You worry that you aren't yet good enough to be a Companion. Considering you just put a member of the Circle on his ass, I think you're more suited to it than I.”

Hlin grunted in acknowledgment as they reached the top of the steps. 

The burly man at the forge was hammering out the shape of a battle axe on the anvil, when he looked up to put it back in the forge to reheat, he noticed the two that had come to see him. “What can I do for you? Skyforge steel is the best in the land.”

“Actually we just joined the Companions,” Hlin explained. “Vilkas and Farkas sent us up with their swords to be sharpened.”

“Ah. Which one of you knocked Vilkas on his ass? He only does that when a whelp manages to best him because he underestimated them.”

“That was me, sir.” Hlin looked down at the ground shyly. 

“Good on you. I'll get these taken care of. I hate to send you on another errand, but I was wondering if you could take Aela’s shield to her for me. Normally I would take it myself, but my wife is in mourning and I need to get back to her soon.”

“I can do that for you. I'm sorry for your loss.” Hlin frowned.

“The worst part is she thinks he's still alive. Every day without news makes it worse on her.” Eurland shook his head.

“What happened?” Ralof asked.

“Our boy left home to join the Stormcloaks. We never heard that he made it and we asked those we know if he's been seen and they haven't heard anything.” 

“You think he was attacked on the way there?” Hlin asked. 

“The fool boy went alone on foot. He could have gotten eaten by a bear, which is my guess.  My wife and other son think the Battle Borns have something to do with it all, and their accusations have made this feud even worse.”

“Talos,” Ralof swore as he ran a hand through his hair. “We will take Aela her shield, Euorland. I will keep your family in my prayers to The Nine tonight.”

“I will keep them in mine as well,” Hlin told him as she accepted Aela’s shield from him. 

Ralof followed Hlin back down the steps in quiet thought. “I will reach out to Windhelm and see what I can find for them. If he did fall in battle, they deserve to know.”

“The Stormcloaks wouldn't send a message?” Hlin asked.

“I imagine they will contact kin after the war, but Ulfric doesn't spare much manpower for anything other than fighting.”

Hlin scowled. “You need more than strength to win a war. I'm no general, but even I know that much.”

“Aye.” Ralof sighed.  “Galmar, his main General, isn't much better.”

Hlin thought on that new knowledge silently as they entered Jorrvaskr. Aela was not in the large dining area, so they went downstairs. They could hear her talking, and followed the sound of her voice.

“We need to be more discreet. I think the old man is catching on.” Aela was saying.

“Let him. The Harbinger doesn't rule us on our own time.” A man's voice was heard.

Hlin and Ralof turned down a hall and could see Aela speaking with the man that was blind in one eye. Aela was facing the door, and cut him off. “Ah, the new whelps. I heard from Skjor here that you gave the twins quite the thrashing.”

“Hlin fared better than I,” Ralof clapped her on the back.

“Yes she did,” Skjor agreed. “She actually knocked Vilkas on his ass.

“Did she?” Aela raised her eyebrows. “That is impressive. We will have to go hunting soon, so I can see your prowess for myself.”

Hlin could find no words as she felt her face go red again, she could only nod.

Ralof nudged her arm to get her attention. When she looked at him, he nodded towards the shield in her hands. 

“Oh! Eorlund wanted us to bring you your shield.” Hlin managed to sputter out.

“Ah! Thank you.” Aela took the shield from Hlin’s shaking hands and put it on the bed. “Skjor and I are about to go hunting. I'll show you two the whelps’ quarters on my way up.” 

Hlin and Ralof followed Aela back towards the stairs, instead of turning left, she turned right and opened a set of double doors, revealing rows of beds that were currently empty. “Check the chests to make sure the bed isn't already claimed, otherwise you can sleep wherever you please.”

“Thank you, Aela.” Ralof smiled when Hlin couldn't find her words.

“Get some sleep you two. The hard work begins tomorrow.” Aela said before disappearing up the stairs.


	5. Chapter 5

Hlin and  Ralof stood side by side in the training yard as Vilkas and Skjor sized the two of them up. 

“So tell me, whelps.”  Skjor said. “What experience do you have in battle?” 

“I’m a Stormcloak. I’ve joined until I am called to return to Windhelm.” Ralof said. “I was part of Jarl Ulfric’s personal guard until we were ambushed at Darkwater Crossing and taken to Helgen.”

Skjor grunted in acknowledgement. “And you?” he asked Hlin.

“I had self defense training by a member of the Redoran Guard in Blacklight. I also survived the dragon attack on Helgen.” Hlin told them. 

“That explains your fighting style.” Vilkas said thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed that Dunmer that don't use magic rely on speed and agility. If you grew up in Blacklight and were taught by Dunmer, it makes sense that you fight like one.”

“Thank you? I think?” Hlin furrowed her brow. 

“It's something you can certainly use to your advantage. Most expect Nords to use brute strength above anything else. I would definitely suggest training with Athis. He was our second newest member before you two joined up, but he has more experience than most of us have been alive.” Skjor said. 

“I will speak to him about it. Thank you.” Hlin inclined her head at Skjor.

“No need for bowing or formalities here-" Skjor started, but was interrupted by a guard rushing around the corner of Jorrvaskr.

“You two! You're the ones from Helgen?” he called. Hlin and Ralof looked at each other before nodding. “The Jarl is requesting your presence right away.” 

Hlin and Ralof both looked to Vilkas, who had a single brow raised as he nodded his approval once. They took off towards the palace, both taking the stairs two at a time. They were out of breath by the time they reached Dragonsreach. They slowed down their pace to catch their breath as they approached the Jarl on his throne. Hlin was the first to speak. “My Jarl, you sent for us?”

“Aye. Farengar, my court wizard, has brought a project of  his to my attention that involves dragons. He says he needs some assistance, and I think you two would be ideal. If you’ll follow me.” Balgruuf stood and passed them on the way to a room situated off to the side of the throne room. Hlin and Ralof exchanged a glance before following the Jarl into the wizard’s study. “Farengar, these are the two that I was telling you about.”

“These are the ones that survived the dragon attack?” The wizard studied them from under the shadows of his hood. “They don’t look like much, perhaps they survived just due to pure luck. No matter, I need someone to go and fetch something and you two will do just fine.”

“What does this have to do with the dragons?” Hlin asked, crossing her arms.

“Ah, not mere brutes, but also thinkers? Color me surprised” Farengar missed the sharp glares that Ralof and Hlin shot him. “I have a source that says Bleak Falls Barrow houses a tablet that will reveal much about why dragons have returned. I need you to go into Bleak Falls Barrow, find the dragonstone tablet in the main chamber, and bring it back to me, assuming you can get out in one piece.”

“Are we to be paid to do this fetching for you?” Ralof asked.

“I will compensate you when you return, don’t worry, boy.” Balgruuf said before leaving. “Please make haste. The longer we wait for answers, the more people are in danger.

“Yes, my Jarl.” Hlin bowed slightly before leading Ralof out of the room and back through the great hall. “Shall we notify the Companions that we’ll be gone for a few days?” She asked him.

“Aye. Even if it just gets Vilkas off our back for leaving just after we joined.”

“It’s not like we’re going off to join a group of bandits. We should be back within a week or so. Do you know where we’re supposed to be going?”

“Aye. It’s the barrow between here and Riverwood.” 

“Then it shouldn’t take more than a few days. They won’t even miss us.” Hlin said as they entered Jorrvaskr through the front door.

“What shouldn’t take more than a few days?” Kodlak asked from his seat by the fire. Farkas and Vilkas were sitting with him, laden plates in front of them.

“The Jarl is sending us to Bleak Falls Barrow to retrieve a stone tablet for his court wizard. Apparently it has a connection to the dragon we saw at Helgen.” Hlin told them, not bothering to hide any information from the Companions.

“Is that so?” Kodlak asked. 

“Is that what the guard came and got you for before training?” Farkas asked.

“Aye.” Ralof nodded.

“They need to tend to their duties here at Jorrvaskr first. They only joined just days ago, whatever errand the Jarl has for them can wait.” Vilkas frowned at them.

“Jarl Balgruuf and I have known each other for many years. If this is something that could wait, he’d assign it to the guards. If he is specifically requesting for these two to do it, there is a reason behind why and it’s a vital task that must be done quickly.” Kodlak nodded at Hlin and Ralof. “Though, I would like to send Farkas with you two. That way, he can train and mentor you along the way.” 

“That sounds like a solid idea to me. Ralof, what do you think?” Hlin asked her companion. He nodded his agreement, still unhappy with running errands for a condescending mage. 

“Let's all get packed and I'll meet you two up here to head out.” Farkas wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood, leaving Vilkas and Kodlak at the table. 

“Do you have writing materials available? I need to send a letter.” Ralof asked Kodlak.

“Yes, I have some in my office. Come, I'll get them for you.” Ralof followed Kodlak and Hlin trailed behind them both, needing to pack before their journey. 

Ralof returned to the barracks moments after Hlin, tucking scrolls and an inkwell into the trunk by his bed. “I'm going to write to Jarl Ulfric when we return from the Barrow. Let him know I'm staying in Whiterun to help the Jarl prepare for the dragons.”

“You won't get in trouble will you?” Hlin asked as she cushioned potion bottles between clothes.

“If they order me back to Windhelm, I have to go. Other than that, I'm free to do as I wish.”

“That's… quite lenient.”

“Jarl Ulfric knows that his soldiers have families and responsibilities to attend to. Unlike the Empire, who draft soldiers from many sources, the Stormcloaks rely on volunteers.” Ralof shouldered his pack. “What good is fighting to keep your family safe if they starve over winter because you couldn't work to bring in coin?”

“That's a good point.”Hlin followed Ralof back up the stairs after shouldering her own pack. Farkas was waiting for them by the front door. 

“All ready to go?” the Circle member asked. “Let's get going. I want to get there before dark.”

* * *

They had almost reached the barrow, and were crouched behind a couple of large boulders surrounded by snowberry bushes. A handful of bandits could be seen patrolling the entrance to the barrow.

“I can see one of them is an Orc. I'll take that one. Can either of you use a bow?” Farkas said. 

“I can,” Ralof offered, pulling his bow off of his pack.

“Good. That one to the far left is an archer. We need to take care of them first.” 

“How can you tell they’re an archer?” Hlin asked.

Farkas grinned unsettlingly, “Years of practice.”

Ralof readied an arrow and took careful aim. Hlin watched him take a deep breath and release the arrow. The figure furthest to the left dropped moments later and the Orc patrolling the landing of the steps leading up to the barrow turned around while pulling a battleaxe off his back, rapidly searching for the archer. 

“Wait for me to engage the orc, then take care of the others.” Farkas ordered before popping out from their hiding spot and charging ahead. When he drew his sword, he got the attention of the Orc and led him away from the other bandits that were running to join the fight. Ralof switched his bow for his hammer and Hlin drew her twin axes as they took the stairs quickly. 

Hlin reached the top of the stairs and caught the movement of another archer to her right just before and arrow whizzed by her head. Hlin used the crumbling pillars of the barrow to hide behind as she darted between cover to find her way to the archer. Ralof was engaged with a woman wielding a rusty mace, and the archer had stopped trying to track Hlin and was trying to get a good aim at Ralof, from the looks of it. Hlin rounded the last bit of cover she had before the archer and let out a cry as she hacked at the bow itself with her axes. The wood splintered in the archer’s hands, rendering it useless. The archer scowled at her and pulled a pair of daggers from within his armor, lashing out at her. Hlin dodged backwards, holding one of her axes up to catch the steel of one of the daggers as it got too close to her face. She tried to take another step back, but felt her backside hit a column. She didn’t dare turn to a different direction, so she held her ground and let him come to her. When he got close enough, she employed the first tactic that she had learned from the Redoran guards that taught her self defense and kneed him in the crotch. The bandit bent over, a high pitched wheeze leaving his throat. Hlin took the moment of vulnerability to bring the axes down on his neck, effectively severing the spine. His head hit the ground between her feet and rolled so she could see one of his eyes staring at nothing. 

“And you had no experience before Helgen?” Ralof asked after he dispatched his own bandit. “If I liked women, I’d say your natural skill was attractive.”

Hlin couldn’t hold back a laugh at that, snorting as she doubled over. “The sentiment is mutual, my friend,” she managed to wheeze out. 

Farkas was still locked in combat with the Orc, and the two of them settled in to watch. The Orc was circling Farkas, searching for a weakness. Farkas stayed grounded, never letting his back face his opponent. The Orc seemed to find an opening and lunged, swinging his battleaxe upward toward Farkas’s side. Farkas quickly sidestepped the Orc and swung his greatsword around and plunged it deep into the Orc’s back. 

“Damn,” Ralof breathed. 

“He's definitely not a woman.” Hlin elbowed Ralof in the side teasingly. 

“Don't remind me.” He groaned as Farkas wiped his sword off and returned it to his back before jogging over to meet them.

Farkas led them into the barrow and the three of them fell into a comfortable rhythm. Farkas would take on the larger enemies, Hlin would rush the archers, and Ralof would take the  stragglers. It was a fine system that got them through the barrow quickly. They encountered few snags until they reached a doorway that was completely covered by thick webbing. 

Farkas made a noise of discomfort in the back of his throat before pressing on, slashing through the web with his greatsword. Ralof nudged Hlin in front of him so he could be the last one in the room covered in spider webs. 

“Am I the only one not afraid of- Oh by Azura that's huge!” Hlin cut herself off of poking fun at the men she was with when the largest spider she had ever seen dropped down from the ceiling. She wished now more than anything that she had learned how to use magic during her years among the Dunmer, because she would love nothing more than to burn the entire barrow down if it meant getting away from the giant eight legged monstrosity before them.

All three of them attacked the spider, ducking and weaving to avoid its fangs as it tried to bite them. Ralof delivered the killing blow, smashing down on its head with his hammer, the spider crumpling into a heap on the ground.

“Oh thank the tribunal it's dead. Can you three cut me down now?” A voice came from the left. Hlin and her companions looked to see a Dunmer man tangled up in the web. It looked like they had interrupted the spider’s meal.

“Sure, no problem.” Farkas crossed over and swapped his greatsword for a dagger in his belt and used it to cut the Dunmer down.

As soon as the mer landed on his feet, he took off deeper into the barrow, shouting something about a golden claw and treasure.

Ralof furrowed his brows. “Lucan Valerius in Riverwood is missing a golden claw that was stolen from his shop.”

“Then let's get it back.” Hlin suggested before taking off after the thief, with Farkas and Ralof behind her. Luckily, the winding halls didn't branch too much, and they caught up to him quickly. Not quickly enough, however, because he was being impaled by a greatsword wielded by a ghastly corpse with glowing eyes.

“Oh great, draugr.” Farkas huffed before charging the thing. It died quickly, being no match for the Companion.

“What's a dragur?” Hlin asked Ralof as she pried the golden dragon claw from the mer’s hands.

“Preserved corpses enchanted by ancient magic to guard tombs. Common in stories used by parents to scare children into behaving. I didn't think they were real.” Ralof shivered.

“The ones that shout are the worst.” Farkas added. “Come on, let's keep going.”

Farkas had been right about draugr that shout, though Hlin didn't know what he had meant by shouting at the time. When they had made it to the main chamber, the three of them had been knocked back down the stairs they had just come up. Hlin got up, shaking her head to dispel the odd fuzzy sensation she felt in her brain, like something was whispering to her very mind.

When the draugr lay dead on the floor, Hlin went to the sarcophagus it had lain in and plucked the stone tablet from inside and placed it in her bag next to the golden claw. She still couldn’t get rid of the sensation of somebody whispering to her, so she sat down on the end and held her head in her hands.

“You alright?”Farkas asked while Ralof stepped closer. Hlin looked up to answer, but her attention was caught by some of the runes on the wall in front of her glowing.

“Do you two see that?” Hlin nodded at the wall. 

“See what?” Ralof asked, looking at the wall as well.

“Some of the runes are glowing.” Hlin furrowed her brow as she got up. Slowly, she made her way towards the wall, frowning as the whispering turned to chanting as she got closer. She didn’t recognize the language as something spoken by man or mer.

“Hlin?” Ralof asked, uncertainty in his voice. Hlin silenced him further by holding her hand up. 

The chanting got more insistant, and Hline could see nothing but the three runes glowing at her. The fuzziness in her mind seemed to focus. Reaching out, she touched the wall. All at once, the chanting came to a sudden crescendo, and the runes flashed brighter before going dark once more. A feeling of warm understanding came over her as she whispered, “ _ Fus _ .”

“What was that?” Ralof asked. Hlin turned to face him and Farkas. Farkas was standing further back with a puzzled look on his face. 

“I- I don’t know. It’s like I know the word, but I’ve never seen this language before.” She glanced back at the wall. “You’re sure you didn’t see anything? Or hear anything?”

“I’m sure. I think we should stay here tonight if you’re that tired, though. Not worth risking our necks if we need to worry about you seeing things.” Farkas said. 

Ralof frowned, but nodded in agreement. “It might be just stress from experiencing so much battle recently. You definitely need rest.”

Hlin nodded as well. “Yeah, I think you’re right. We can stay where the bandits set up that cook fire and head back to Dragonsreach in the morning.”


	6. Chapter 6

Hlin felt like life in Skyrim for her was developing a pattern. Arrive somewhere, spend five minutes getting comfortable, then get sent off to do something else for somebody, then repeat. Now she was following a contingent of guards with Ralof as they went to help investigate the Western Watchtower for the Jarl. Neither of them knew what Balgruuf expected them to do that his guards could’t already do, but nobody could say they didn’t try to help.

When they spread out, Hlin went into the watch tower itself and found two guards taking shelter. “No, stay back. It could be anywhere. It just grabbed Hrolki!”

“Where did it go?” Hlin asked. Her question was answered for her by the steady beat of enormous wings.

Hlin reached for her bow as she ran back out of the tower. She wasn't such a good shot just yet, but she wasn't about to rush a dragon with her axes in hand. Ralof and Farkas were already firing at it. 

“Aim for the wings!” Irileth called out to the guards. “If we can ground it, we have a better chance!”

Hlin took aim at part of the wings closest to the dragon's body, so if she missed the thin membrane, she'd at least do some damage. She used the tower to her advantage, diving back in to avoid the fiery breath of the beast. They finally managed to force it to land, wings too tattered to keep it aloft. The ground shook beneath the dragon, knocking everybody off balance. Farkas was the first to recover, and rushed it. The dragon snapped at him, but he jumped away, the massive fangs missing him by inches. Ralof joined Farkas, and the two of them kept the dragon occupied while the guards and Hlin continued to rain arrows on it. Hlin reached her last arrow and said a prayer to Azura before taking aim and letting it fly. Her aim held true and the arrow pierced the dragon's golden eye. It reared back in pain, letting out a wounded shriek before collapsing.

Hlin rushed to Ralof and Farkas, checking them for injuries.

_ “Dovahkiin? Niid!”   _ A rumbling voice sputtered out.

Hlin spun around to see the dragon's good eye staring at her. Great intelligence was reflected in it, and behind that she could see disbelief and fear.

“Did it just speak?” Ralof asked incredulously.

Still shocked by the look the dragon was giving her, Hlin had no answer. She was frozen to the spot, and did not move a muscle when the dragon closed its eye and started to glow. She could feel Farkas and Ralof move back, calling for her to do the same, but she paid them no mind. She felt an invisible force drive her to move forward and put her hand on the scaled snout of the dragon as it disintegrated. The dragon finally closed its remaining eye just heartbeats before it disappeared and trails of light engulfed Hlin. Her veins felt full of fire and ice, and she could feel something deep inside of her awaken. A dull roar in her ears made her deaf to the rest of the world for a moment, and the first thing she heard was a guard behind her whispering “-Dragonborn.” in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Hlin asked.

“Dragonborn.” Ralof was staring at her in awe. “In ancient Nord legend, a Dragonborn could slay dragons and steal their power. They’re said to be chosen by Akatosh to carry out his bidding when the world needs it most.” 

Hlin shook her head. “I don’t-” She couldn’t possibly be any sort of chosen one. She was just an orphaned servant. 

“There’s only one way to know. Try to Shout. All Dragonborn can do it.” The guard who had first called her Dragonborn said. 

Hlin could taste a word on her lips, she focused on that word, feeling it build in her gut. She looked to the dragon skull behind her and let her instincts take over. “ _ FUS!” _

The dragon skull rolled away from the rest of the skeleton, and the sound echoed around them like thunder. 

“Damn.” Ralof breathed. “I’ve seen Jarl Ulfric Shout before, but it’s… different, knowing that you’re Dragonborn.”

Hlin pushed her roiling emotions down and shook her head. “I don’t even know what being Dragonborn means. Right now, we need to get back to Jarl Balgruuf and update him on what happened here. 

Ralof nodded, “Right.” 

“I’ll meet you two at Jorrvaskr. Kodlak needs to know what’s going on.” Farkas paused, “Unless you would like to tell him yourself?” He asked Hlin.

“No, you’re fine.” Hin smiled weakly. “We’ll see you at Jorrvaskr. Unless Balgruuf’s wizard holds me hostage to take me apart.” Hlin turned back to the dragon and started to examine the remains while Farkas jogged back towards Whiterun.

“Getting souvenirs?” Ralof asked. 

“Dragonborn or not, we just killed a dragon. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t at least take some scales.” Hlin started picking up some of the loose scales that remained and put them in her bag. When she was satisfied that she got all that she wanted, she and Ralof made their way back to Whiterun. They had only made it to the stables when the ground beneath them shook and the loudest sound they had ever heard rolled through the air. 

_ “DOVAHKIIN!” _ The skies and mountains themselves seemed to call out. Ralof and Hlin clapped their hands over their ears to protect their hearing. Birds scattered from the trees and the horses in the nearby stables shuffled restlessly in their stalls. 

“What in Oblivion was that?” Ralof asked as the echoes subsided. 

Hlin frowned, having a feeling she knew, but not wanting to voice her thoughts. “Let's just get to Balgruuf.”

Whiterun was a flurry of activity, neighbors were checking on one another, half of the guards were leaving the Drunken Huntsman with arms full of bundles of arrows, and a crowd could be seen gathering in the market district. Ralof led Hlin up a set of stairs to the left immediately after passing through the city gates. They cut through the Wind District and managed to get to the stairs leading up to Dragonsreach in no time. Hlin opened the doors to the palace and they could immediately hear raised voices. They hurried towards the throne, where a man in armor and Balgruuf could been seen discussing the city’s defenses. 

“There you two are! The Jarl has been waiting for you!” Avenicci said, before waving them forward. 

Balgruuf held up his hand to silence the man he was speaking with. “What happened at the watchtower?” He asked as he stood. “Was the dragon there?”

“We defeated the dragon, my Jarl-” Hlin started, but faltered, still processing what happened.

“And our friend here appears to be Dragonborn.” Ralof finished for her, unable to contain himself. “She stole the dragon’s power, just like in the legends!” 

“Truly?” Jarl Balgruuf stood and came to grip Hlin by the shoulders. “Then it was indeed the Greybeards summoning you.”

“The Greybeards? In High Hrothgar?” Ralof asked. “Then we should leave immediately for the Seven Thousand-”

“Wait!” Hlin held up her hands and stopped them from continuing. “Just two weeks ago, I was a servant in Blacklight. Now you expect me to believe I’m the chosen one of a Nord god?”

“I know it’s a lot to take in my friend. Nobody expects to be something as life altering as a Dragonborn, especially at at time like this.” Jarl Balgruuf let go of her shoulders. “I encourage you to go to High Hrothgar when you can, but don’t do so until you’re ready. In the meantime, allow me to thank you, both of you, for everything you’ve done for this city. I name you both Thanes of Whiterun hold, with all of the rights and privileges associated with the title.”

“Thane? Thank you, my Jarl.” Ralof bowed to Balgruuf. 

“Boy, I’m the one thanking you here. You’ve saved my city twice over now, and have asked for nothing in return thus far. Now you two must be exhausted. Go on and get some rest while you can. I feel you have a long journey ahead of you.”

“Thank you, my Jarl.” Ralof bowed again. Hlin bowed as well, not saying a word as she felt Ralof direct her back out of the palace. “You going to be okay?” He asked her as they descended the stairs together.

Hlin let out her breath in a huff. “I don’t know. I’m still taking it all in. I don’t know what all of this means. Am I supposed to spend the rest of my life fighting dragons now? I just wanted to join the war effort, not become some living legend.”

“Honestly? I have no idea. Talos was the last known dragonborn. And there were no dragons around for him to fight. I think the Greybeards would have a better answer for you than I can give you.”

Hlin furrowed her brow, not saying anything in response.

“How about we not worry about it tonight? Dragonborn or no, we slayed a dragon, and that is cause enough for celebration, eh?”

Hlin smiled, “Aye. We did slay a dragon. That is worth a few drinks in my book.” They linked arms and walked into Jorrvaskr together, grinning widely when they were greeted with cheers. 

Farkas was the first one to them, clapping Hlin on the back with one hand and pushing a mug of mead at her with the other. “There’s the dragon slayer!” He hollered, already well into his mead. “We were wondering if you would decide to come back, being Dragonborn and all!”

“We’re not going anywhere just yet, Farkas.” Ralof smiled. “Hlin still needs some time to process everything. Let her enjoy her victory for now.”

Hlin drank deeply from her mead, pushing away the sense of dread she had been feeling since killing the dragon. She left Ralof’s side to sit at one of the tables along the fire. She let herself get lost in her mead, accepting a second mug with a mumbled, “Thanks,” without even looking up.

A scrape and the sound of leather hitting wood caused her to look up, and then freeze as she realized that Aela had brought her the mead, and was sitting across the table from her with an appraising look on her face. “It’s a shame that Farkas was the one to be with you when you slayed that dragon.”

“Is it?” Hlin asked, hoping she wasn’t blushing as hard as she felt like she was.

“I would have liked to be with you myself. It isn’t every day that one gets the chance to make history by killing the first dragon seen in Skyrim in hundreds of years.”

“And you would have liked that honor?” Hlin asked. 

“I would have liked to just see you take that honor. You haven’t been my Shield Sister long, but I’m proud to call you so. Farkas tells me that you landed a shot in the beast’s eye. That’s quite impressive. We should go hunting one night.”

“That was a lucky shot, but I wouldn’t be opposed to working with you to improve my skills.” Hlin drank from her tankard and sighed. “I have a feeling I’m going to need the practice, if there are going to be more dragons.”

Aela studied Hlin for a moment before nodding. “Even more reason to go hunting. Dragons aren’t going to sit still and wait for you to have a perfect shot lined up. You’ll need to practice with moving targets. I heard Ralof and Vilkas planning a training session for two handed weapons for tomorrow. While they’re swinging around oversized weapons, we shall take to the wilderness and I will train you as a true huntress.” Aela took a drink of her own mead before slamming the empty tankard down. “Sleep well, sister. You’re going to need your energy for tomorrow.” Aela winked at her before standing and moving to talk to Skjor in the corner, leaving Hlin at the table with a burning face and butterflies in her gut. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating! I've had some stuff going on and haven't had much inspiration for this chapter. I'm excited to see how this hunting trip turns out with Hlin and Aela!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aela and Hlin's hunting trip does not have the expected outcome

Hlin followed Aela through the trees, trying to mimic her silent footfalls, but failing to do so. Hlin flinched every time a twig snapped or leaves rustled beneath her feet. She squinted in the filtered light of the trees, trying to see how Aela moved her feet. She seemed to be putting her toes and the balls of her feet down first, and then letting the rest of her foot follow. Her movements were fluid and she moved with the shadows of the forest. 

“How did you learn to move like that?” Hlin finally asked after failing again to imitate her companion.

“My father raised me to live off of what the forest gives us. He made me my first bow when I was eight and took me on all of his hunting trips the next year. He taught me everything I needed to know before it was time for my own Trial when I came of age. My mother didn’t live to see me join the Companions, but I fight to continue to honor her and her family line.” Aela led them to a clearing and sat down on a felled tree to drink from her waterskin. “What of your family?”

“They died when I was a babe. Dominion raid at the end of the war. I was found by a Dunmer soldier returning to Morrowind and he took me in. In Blacklight, he joined the Redoran guard and I cleaned for House Redoran. He only taught me how to use a dagger for self defense. He didn’t think I would need much more as a maid.” 

“I’m sorry to hear of your family. I’ve never been to Morrowind, I’d like to hear more about it someday. Athis has told me some, but he’s lived in Skyrim most of his life and only goes back every few years or so to visit family.”

“It isn’t nearly as beautiful as Skyrim. Everything is either covered in ash or dying because of the ash in the soil and water. Some of the servants that lived before the Red Mountain erupted tell stories of lush vegetation that gave the land color, but it’s going to take a while for Red Mountain to stop spewing ash and even longer for the land to recover from centuries of suffocation.”

“That sounds rather depressing.  What prompted you to move to Skyrim?”

“The war. I wanted to join the Stormcloaks.” Hlin sat down next to Aela and accepted the waterskin when it was offered.

“You don't seem so sure of that now.” Aela observed.

“I'm not sure of  _ anything _ now, with this Dragonborn business. I feel like it's against the rules for the Dragonborn to get involved in politics like that.”

“The last Dragonborn in recorded history was Tiber Septim, I think it’s okay if you participate in a civil war.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Hlin sighed and drank from the waterskin, relishing the cool drink.

“There seems to be something else.” 

“Acceptable or not, if I  _ am _ Dragonborn, everything I do is going to impact history more so than if I were just a common soldier.”

“That is also true. I imagine it won’t be easy for you to make the choices you’re going to have to make.”

Hlin frowned at the ground in front of her. “I don’t want to think about it anymore. Not today, anyway.”

“Then how about a distraction?” Aela leaned in, drawing Hlin's eyes back up to hers.

“Is that what you brought me out here for?” Hlin asked, suddenly breathless at the hungry look in Aela's eyes. “I was under the impression you were going to teach me the ways of the huntress.”

“Then take this as your first lesson, a huntress takes the opportunities to draw out her prey when she can.” Aela closed the distance between them and kissed Hlin.

Hlin made a noise in the back of her throat in surprise before returning the kiss, cupping the back of Aela's head in her hand. Aela took over, seeking entrance with her tongue and dominating the kiss when Hlin granted her entrance. 

“Is this okay?” Aela asked Hlin. When Hlin nodded, Aela began unbuckling her armour. “Have you been with a woman before?”

Hlin shook her head. “No, never.” 

Aela hummed as she kissed along Hlin’s jaw, making it hard for her to focus. “Have you been with anybody before?”

“Never. Dunmer are very reserved about sex, or at least House Redoran was. And the servants’ quarters in Blacklight offer no privacy.” 

Aela stopped and pulled back, frowning. “Then perhaps this should wait.” 

“I think now is a great time.” Hlin tried to pull Aela back to her, but the Huntress dislodged herself from Hlin’s fingers. 

“We may be more open and free about sex here in Skyrim, but it’s still important that your first time be special and with somebody that cares about you. A roll on the forest floor with a shield sister doesn’t fall into that category.”

Hlin opened her mouth to argue, but a deafening roar cut her off. She swore, righting her armour before running towards the sound. She didn’t look behind her to see if Aela followed her, it didn’t matter. The second she heard the dragon, it was like a fire had been lit inside her, compelling her to chase after it. Thoughts of Aela and moving through the forest silently were abandoned as she burst from the tree line and saw a group of men and women outfitted in mismatched armour. Some were shooting arrows at the dragon, while others could be seen running as fast as their legs could carry them towards her and the imagined shelter of the trees. She snorted a laugh as they passed her. 

“I see nothing funny about this.” Aela puffed as she caught up to Hlin. 

“They think the best place to hide from a fire breathing dragon is in the forest. Surrounded by flammable wood. S’wits.” Hlin removed her bow from where it rested on her back and readied an arrow. “Aim for the wings. The more holes we put in it, the faster we force it to land.”

The bandits were less composed than the guards of Whiterun the day before, so it took longer for them to finally ground the dragon. Hlin managed to not fall over when it shook the ground with its weight. She replaced her bow with her twin axes and ran to the dragon, yelling as she got under it so it couldn’t snap at her and slashed at the soft belly, ignoring the burn of the dragon’s blood as it showered on her. The dragon screeched in pain, rearing back, and Hlin had to roll out of the way of being crushed under its body as it collapsed. She panted as she got up from the ground, watching one of the bandits deliver the final blow. They had not yet noticed her, cheering and clapping each other on the backs. 

And then she took the dragon’s soul. Once again, fire and ice filled her veins as the soul wound around her body in glowing tendrils, caressing her like a lover before sinking into her skin. She closed her eyes, deciding that she enjoyed the feeling. 

When she looked back at the bandits, they had their swords drawn and were looking at her with a mixture of emotions on their faces. One started to advance, a burly Orc wielding a greatsword. Hlin’s body tensed, preparing for a fight. 

“She just consumed a dragon’s soul. Do you  _ really _ want to do that?” Aela’s voice called from the other side of the group, her bow drawn and trained on the Orc. “Of course, if you’d like to be on the Dragonborn’s ever growing list of kills, don’t let me stop you.”

One of the bandits backed away from Hlin, a blond Nord that was more muscle than anything else. “Fuck that.” 

“Milk drinker!” Another nord called after him before readying his mace.

Feeling confident, Hlin felt power build up in her gut. “ _ FUS _ !” She Shouted, sending the remaining bandits tumbling backwards.

“Okay, fuck this. I’m out.” A Bosmer threw up her hands before retreating towards the forest, the rest of her comrades following her, leaving Aela and Hlin alone with the dragon skeleton. 

“Well,” Hlin returned her axes to the loops on belt. “I suppose the rest of our shield siblings are going to want to go dragon hunting now.” She laughed uncomfortably. 

“Shall we return to Jorrvaskr?” Aela asked her. 

“That’s probably for the best.” Hlin stepped towards the skeleton and picked over it, grabbing scales to take back. “I think I’m going to set out for High Hrothgar soon.”

“What changed your mind so soon?”

“Dragons haven’t been seen in Tamriel for thousands of years. I’ve seen three since I left Blacklight. It can’t be a coincidence that suddenly there are dragons and a Dragonborn. If I wait, I know I’m going to regret it.”

Aela nodded as she led Hlin back towards Whiterun. “I understand. We will keep a bed open for you at Jorrvaskr, as long as you need it.”

“I should probably fully join then, huh?” Hlin mused as she followed Aela. 

“Aye. And Ralof as well. I’m sure Skjor will have something ready for you two when we return.”

When they returned to Jorrvaskr, Aela pulled Skjor aside while Hlin grabbed Athis for training. She felt strangely energized after taking the dragon’s soul, and needed to burn of the energy. They sparred until well after sunset, leaving Hlin’s muscles tired and sore. She groaned in relief when she finally collapsed into her bed after supper. 

“Long day?” Ralof quietly asked from the bed across the room. 

“Aye. Killed another dragon. Got rejected by Aela. It was all fun.” Hlin grunted, turning to face him.  
“She rejected you? Why?” Ralof’s voice was colored in disbelief. 

“I’m inexperienced. She says I deserve better than a casual romp in the woods for my first time.” Ralof was silent for a heartbeat too long before Hlin huffed. “You agree with her?”

“Well, as someone whose first time  _ was _ a casual romp in the woods, I agree with her. You do deserve better.”

“You think so?” 

“Of course. I’m not saying you should wait for flower petals and silk sheets, but at least hold on until you find somebody that wants to hold you after instead of adjusting their armour as soon as they roll off you.”

Hlin flinched at the bitterness in Ralof’s voice. “Was your first time like that?”

“Aye. ‘Twas the night before my first fight with the Stormcloaks. Some lass from Morthal pulled me away from camp and told me she’d been wanting to get her hands on me for weeks. I don’t even remember her name, but I didn’t care, I was scared and didn’t want to die before I had done it at least once. It was over too soon and before I caught my breath she was dressed and heading back to camp. She didn’t survive.”

“Oh… I’m so sorry, Ralof.” 

“It’s alright. My next time was better. He even made me breakfast in the morning, which was nice.”

“He?” Hlin asked. 

“Hey, I was just as surprised as you are. Haven’t been with a woman since.” Ralof paused, gathering his thoughts. “My point is, yes, Aela is pretty and would likely show you a good time, but that would be it. As your friend, I think you deserve somebody who will show you a good time in the night and the next morning.”

Hlin smiled, “Thank you, Ralof. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Now get some sleep, knowing your luck, we’ll have to kill  _ two _ dragons tomorrow.”

Hlin chuckled and wished Ralof a goodnight before she turned to her side and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soooo sorry about the long wait. I've been stuck on this chapter for about six weeks and decided to scrap what I had and start over a few days ago. This is the much better result! I'm currently working on chapter 8, so that should be up soonish as well!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, we die like men here.
> 
> So sorry for the delay. Work has been hella crazy and getting time to sit down and actually write something longer than a one shot has been such a pain!

Skjor turned out to not have a task for their Proving, as it turned out, so Hlin and Ralof were granted permission to journey to High Hrothgar. Kodlak agreed with Hlin that finding out if she was truly Dragonborn and what it meant for Skyrim took precedence. He would have Skjor save a task for their Proving so they could do it when they returned. Now, they were resting in the Vilemyr Inn after six days of traveling, with the last two being caught in constant downpour. All of their belongings were completely and thoroughly soaked, and the innkeeper was kind enough to let them hang their clothes by the fire to dry. 

Halfway through their meal, a young man stepped in through the door, shaking rain off of his light cloak as he looked around the inn. He laid his eyes on the pair as they were quietly eating, and made his way across the floor. “Ralof of Riverwood?” He asked. 

“Aye.” Ralof put his spoon down and turned to the boy. “What can I help you with?”

“I’ve a letter for you. From Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak.” The boy turned and pulled a tube sealed with wax from his bag. 

“Ah, thank you.” Ralof reached into his coin purse and handed the courier a handful of Septims. “I appreciate the haste, especially in this weather.”

“The Jarl said it was of utmost importance that you get this. I’m glad I could catch up with you.” He bowed before approaching the innkeeper, no doubt purchasing his own meal and bed for the night.

Ralof broke the seal on the tube and slid the scroll out of it. Unraveling it, he read it quietly while Hlin continued to eat. “That’s… interesting.” Ralof murmured.

“What’s interesting?” Hlin asked, using her bread to sop up the rest of her stew.

“Jarl Ulfric has assigned me to you. I’m to travel with you for as long as you need another arm at your side.”

“I… see.” Hlin raised her eyebrow. “Is this because I’m Dragonborn?” She asked.

“I may have mentioned it in my letter.” 

“Did he give you any reason why he wants you to stick with me? Not that I’m complaining, I’m just being cautious.”

“He wants to make sure Tamriel’s new legend is protected, I suppose.” Ralof continued scanning the page. “Or he wants it to appear that you support the Stormcloaks.” He scoffed.

“That is why I came to Skyrim.” Hlin noted.

“Yes, but things are different with you being Dragonborn. Trying to be underhanded like this isn’t acceptable.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?” Hlin asked.

“I’ll still accompany you, but I won’t be wearing my Stormcloak uniform when I do.” 

“Aren’t those orders from Jarl Ulfric?”

“They are, but-” Ralof sighed, obviously conflicted. 

“You want me to be able to make my own decision first?” Hlin supplied.

“Aye.”

“Well, then don’t wear the uniform. If he has a problem with it, I’ll tell him that I asked you not to so we wouldn’t stand out as much.”

Ralof snorted disbelievingly. “Yes, I’m sure that will help.”

“How else do you propose telling him to fuck off?”

Ralof groaned and dropped his head to the table with an audible  _ thunk _ .  “You’re right, damn it. Though ‘fuck off’ isn’t quite what I’d say.”

“Don’t worry about it for now. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. We just need to make it up the mountain for now.” 

Ralof grunted noncommittally, prompting Hlin to roll her eyes at him. “I’m going to bed. We still have the Seven Thousand steps to climb in the morning and I’m not about to pass up a mattress with warm, dry blankets.” She stood, taking her empty bowl to the innkeeper and thanked him for the meal before disappearing into her room. 

* * *

 

 

When Hlin and Ralof woke and left their rooms, the inn was filled with patrons chattering excitedly together over breakfast. Hlin tried hard not to listen to the gossip, but failed.

“They Shouted so loud, I could hear it from Windhelm!”

“They say the Dragonborn was in Whiterun. He should be here any day to answer their summons!”

“I heard some sop say it was a Dunmer. What kind of Dragonborn would that be?”

“The Dragonborn has to be sided with the Empire. Talos founded it and it would only be right.”

Ralof grunted as he sat down in a secluded corner next to Hlin with his breakfast.

“Glad you’re not following orders?” Hlin asked, glancing around the crowded inn. 

“Yes and no. Not a fan of disobeying direct orders. But walking out in my uniform would surely stir some trouble we don’t want in here. We may be in Stormcloak territory, but the Rift is shaky ground at best. Full of Imperial sympathisers even if the Jarl supports Ulfric.”

Hlin hummed as she sipped at her tea. She was already in her armour and her pack was sitting on her bed with her weapons, ready to go. “You don’t have to follow me around if this makes you uncomfortable.”

Ralof looked up at her, his blue eyes widened in surprise. “If I don’t, Ulfric will try other means to either get it to look like you’re with us or try to force your hand. Both sides undoubtedly know already the impact having the Dragonborn in their ranks would make on the war. Morale bolstered, the support of the people, and not to mention the sheer power Dragonborns of past have had. I’ve seen what you can do with minimal training, and I know you’d be able to single handedly end this war if you wished.”

“Your thoughts of Ulfric aren’t exactly doing good to my confidence in the cause.” Hlin quirked her eyebrow at him.

“I still wholeheartedly believe in the cause. I just…. I was part of Ulfric’s personal contingent of guards. I’ve gotten to know him and he’s not afraid to use underhanded tactics to win this war. The Empire is better funded, better supplied, and has more men at their disposal.” Ralof shook his head, “I think he had the right idea, at first.”

“And now?” Hlin prodded.

“I’ve seen my brothers and sisters in arms cornering Dunmer in the Grey Quarter after a night of drinking and hurling insults at them. It’s no secret that Ulfric is no fan of anybody that isn’t a Nord. I still want freedom from the Empire, but-” he trailed off.

“-but you have reservations about the way it’s being done?”

“Aye.” Ralof took the last bite of his porridge and stood. “Come on. I’d like to reach High Hrothgar before sundown.”

Hlin refrained from bringing up the deflection and went to her room to grab the rest of her things. She left a couple of Septims on the bedside table to thank the innkeeper for his gracious hospitality and met Ralof outside where he was glaring at the clouds in the sky. “Think it’ll rain again?” She asked him.

“I hope not.” Ralof took off, leading the way through town and paused at a bridge. Two men were blocking their path and one was talking about not being able to make his delivery to High Hrothgar.

“Excuse me, sir. Did you say you have a delivery for the Greybeards?” Hlin asked.

“Yepp, sure did.” The man turned to them, his brows furrowed. “I usually take some preserved food up there about once a month for them. I’ve been making the trip for years, but it’s hard on my knees and I’m not sure if I can make it this month with how bad they’ve been hurting me lately.” 

“We can take it up for you. We’re going to the monastery anyway.” Ralof offered. 

“Really? That’s quite generous of you. Hold here for a moment and I’ll get the goods for you.” The man ran off and disappeared into one of the houses, coming out moments later with a sack in his hand. “There's a chest that sits before the stairs to the monastery. I usually leave the food in there.”

“Do they give you anything in return?” Hlin asked.

“Nah. I’ve never even seen them. Nobody has in hundreds of years. Though everybody’s been waiting for the Dragonborn to show up since they summoned them.”

“Is that so?” Ralof asked, shooting a sly look at Hlin. 

“Aye. We’ve got more pilgrims here than we’ve had in a while. Everybody wants to meet the legend.” 

“Do you know if the Dragonborn has arrived yet?” Hlin resisted the urge to elbow Ralof in the side at his continued questions. 

“Nobody knows. There isn’t even a solid description of the Dragonborn. Some think they’re a man. Others think a woman. Some drunk the other night was yelling about an Argonian Dragonborn that was going to feed us to the dragons instead of saving us.” The man shook his head, “What do you think the Dragonborn looks like?”

“Actually, Ralof and I wanted to make it to the peak before nightfall, so I’m not sure we can stay and chat. We’ll make sure the food gets delivered.” Hlin smiled. 

“Thank you, friends. Come see me when you return from your pilgrimage. I’d love to thank you for the assistance.” The man waved at them as they continued across the bridge. 

When they were out of earshot Hlin laughed. “Maybe I should do that. Spread false rumors about what I look like so I don’t get hounded everywhere I go.”

“Oh yeah? And what kind of rumors would you spread?”

“I liked the traitorous Argonian idea, not going to lie.” Hlin could almost hear Ralof rolling his eyes behind her.

“Of course you do. I should write Jarl Ulfric! ‘Sorry, my Jarl. We were mistaken. I’m not traipsing all over the province with the Dragonborn. Hopefully the true Dragonborn doesn’t mind that you don’t let Argonians into the city.’”

Hlin glanced back. “He doesn’t?” When Ralof nodded solemnly in answer she scowled. “That’s not okay. Morrowind enslaved the Argonians for centuries and they’re allowed in cities. And I can’t imagine that the climate here is agreeable to most Argonians.”

“It’s another thing I don’t see eye to eye with Jarl Ulfric about.” Ralof sighed audibly. “I’m doing an awful job convincing you to side with the Stormcloaks, huh?”

“I think you’re more convincing yourself to not go back, honestly.” Hlin teased.

Ralof only grunted in response, picking up his pace and passing around her on the path. 

They spent the rest of the day climbing the Seven Thousand Steps, taking rests as needed to tend to wounds after being attacked by bears and a frost troll. When they finally reached the monastery, Hlin paused. 

“Are you ready?” Ralof asked.

“I don’t know. Don’t have much of a choice, do I?” She chuckled, before letting her face fall into a neutral mask as she ascended the stairs with Ralof at her back. 

 

* * *

 

 

“If this is going to be my life, I’d like to return to not being Dragonborn.” Hlin scoffed as she kicked another felled draugr away. “The dead should stay dead and not harass me.”

“To be fair, you  _ are _ invading the tombs they’re supposed to be protecting.” Ralof chuckled from behind her. 

“Why couldn’t the bandits and mages made it just a bit farther into the crypt? They could have dealt with the draugr for me and I would just have to behead a couple of conjurers.”

“Because Akatosh wants to challenge his chosen one?” Ralof passed her with a shrug, ignoring her icy glare. Hlin huffed and followed him, nearly running into him when he stopped suddenly. 

“What in Oblivion is wrong with- oh by Azura that’s a sight…” Hlin’s eyes widened as she took in the sight that had stopped Ralof in his tracks. They were in a large, open area. Light was filtering in from above, giving the cavern an ethereal blue glow. Hlin could hear water running nearby, and she could see  _ trees _ of all things growing down below. Something else caught her ear, a faint whisper among the sounds of the water echoing off the walls. “One of those walls with a word is here.” She whispered. 

“Then let’s get down there.” Ralof led the way down a collapsed archway that gave them an easy path to the ground below. 

They took out the skeletons that were meandering about easily and Hlin followed a path down to a pool of water where one of the chanting walls was sitting. She approached the runes carved into the stone, focusing on the words that were drawing her in. “ _ Feim, feim, feim…. _ ” Hlin muttered to herself, trying to understand the word. “Fade?” Understanding dawned on her. “I’ll have to try this later. I don’t want to abandon you here by yourself on accident.”

“You understand it already?” Ralof asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I killed that dragon with Aela, and the Greybeards said that a Dragonborn can use the power of dragons to learn shouts, so I guess killing dragons will help me learn shouts easier.”

“Well,” Ralof shrugged, “At least dragons don't live in caves?”

“Yes, but these word walls do.” Hlin grimaced.

“It does seem that way.” Hlin grumbled as she led the way back up the incline that had led them down to the wall. They crossed a short bridge to another part of the cavern, and quickly dispatched the skeletons that awaited them. Hlin approached the dropped gates across the room and examined them while Ralof looked at the three stone carvings that were in the middle of the floor. “There are pull chains, but they’re on the other side of the gate. Not much use.” She moved back to Ralof, nearly jumping out of her skin when one of the stones lit up as she came to stand beside it. The sound of metal scraping on stone caught her attention, and she turned to see one of the gates opening. “Huh. That’s interesting.” She walked backwards, watching as the stones reacted to her and opened the gates. When she got to the one furthest from the doorway, the closest one’s light faded and the corresponding gate closed. “And they don’t respond to you?” She looked at Ralof over her shoulder. 

“Not at all.”  He shrugged. 

Hlin huffed in frustration. “Give me room.” She stepped back with a hand outstretched towards Ralof to push him backwards if needed. Bouncing on her feet in preparation, she took off running, cheering in triumph when all of the gates were open at once. She had celebrated too soon, however, because the first gate dropped shut just before she crossed it, causing her to slam into the metal. 

“Usually it’s advised to go through doors when they’re  _ open _ .” Ralof sniggered. “You okay?”  Hlin glared at him as she stomped towards the stones to try again. “What about that Shout the Greybeards taught you?” 

“I- didn't think of that.” Hlin admitted. She took her place by the first of the stones and mentally measured the distance. She should have enough room, if she got a running start.  Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she took off, feeling the Shout build deep within her. _“WULD!”_ was past her lips and she was flying across the floor, passing through the open gates before tripping on the first of a set of stairs almost immediately after. She didn’t hear the gates shut, and turned to see Ralof jogging to catch up with her.   

She nodded wordlessly at him before they continued on, dispatching giant spiders and avoiding the fire traps after realizing that the safe tiles to step on had a different color to them. They finally came to a chamber that seemed deserted, but did not sheathe their weapons as stone statues depicting creatures that were not easily identifiable rose from the water on either side of the room. They crossed the strip of stone to the dias where a carved hand was raised holding up… a note. 

Growling, Hlin snatched the note from its resting place. 

 

_ Dragonborn-- _

 

_ I need to speak with you. Urgently. _

 

_ Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I’ll meet you. _

 

_ \--A friend _

 

Ralof snorted over her shoulder. “Attic room? No such thing.”

“It's obviously a trap.” 

“Who would be stupid enough to think they could trap the Dragonborn?”

Hlin smiled wickedly, “We’re going to find out.”


End file.
